


Family Dinner

by Robin_Knight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 03:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Knight/pseuds/Robin_Knight
Summary: Harry takes his family to Dudley's for dinner.





	Family Dinner

“Enough, Albus!”

Harry rubbed at his temples. The glasses upon his nose slid up and down, blurring his vision and distorting the garden around them, and he drew in a deep breath to fight off the oncoming nausea and sheer frustration. It was a cold morning with an overcast sky; he was forced to adjust his scarf and walk straight, as – bent over with scarf high – puffs of breath would steam his lenses and make him unable to see straight. It was tiresome.

The garden on the well-to-do cul-de-sac also put him in a bad mood. It reminded him all too much of ‘home’ with his aunt and uncle; the garden came with the cliché of a white-picket fence, with rows of perfectly planted flowers, and little lawn ornaments that bore such wide smiles that it was clear the worst they saw from life was a hose-pipe ban. There were two mid-range cars in the driveway, in which a ‘baby on board’ sign sat happily in the window of one, and both were shiny and cleaned to almost obsessive standards.

It was nothing like Spinner’s End or Godric’s Hollow; the entire suburban area looked too neat and too sparkly, like a façade that hid a darker underbelly. Harry spent too many years in such environments to ever fully trust them. It was that same distrust that was passed onto Albus, who kicked at stray pebbles with a furious gesture. The teenaged boy wore shaggy black hair that looked perpetually greasy, with piercing green eyes filled with emotion.

“You’re too much like your dad,” said Harry.

Albus scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was attractive compared to most of those his age, with the perfect mixture of features from both parents, and – luckily avoiding the familiar hooked nose – his hair was perhaps his only ‘bad’ feature, borne from being perpetually bent over a cauldron and being exposed to the fumes. It was simply a shame that he mastered the same curl of his lip that came from his other father, along with a narrowing of the eyes and quirk of the head. Harry prayed it was just a teenage phase. It couldn’t last, surely?

“Look, will you just _stop_ kicking stones?” Harry asked.

“Why are you picking on _me_?” Albus snapped. “Just because Lily’s your favourite. It’s not fair; if I ever _finally_ manage to do something you like, it’s ‘that’s my boy’ and ‘well done, son’, but the _second_ I do something you disapprove of? ‘You’re just like your father’. Like, I don’t know who it insults more: me or him. It just sucks, though. _You_ suck.”

“Albus, I love you. You know I love you. I thought we had this discussion? I’m not trying to make your achievements mine, and I’m not trying to push you away when you do bad, it’s just . . . it’s just figures of speech, that’s all. Just stop kicking the floor? It’s driving me nuts.”

“Whatever,” muttered Albus.

“You’re lucky it’s the school holidays.”

Harry resisted the urge to take five points from Slytherin. He ran a hand through silver-streaked hair and drew in a deep breath, all the while looking to the front door and trying to find the courage to just knock the iron knocker. The only times he saw the twelve-year old lately were during school meals or lessons, which was irksome in itself, but – even now – Albus hunched his shoulders and curled in on himself, as if trying to hide from his family. It was enough to make Harry regret working as a teacher. He needed a break from home.

He looked over to the knee-high gate, where Severus stood with book in hand. The older man bore a white streak at the front of his hair, which looked both distinguished and somewhat sensual, and his hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. The scars upon his neck and chest were hidden by a formal and high-necked dress-robe, in the familiar black-and-silver that defined Severus’ style. He kept his nose buried within his book.

“Severus,” called Harry. “Are you watching Lily?”

“I am watching our daughter, yes.”

“Are you? It looks like you’re pretty absorbed with potions recipes.”

Severus slammed the book closed with one hand. The sudden noise made Harry jump, still far too sensitive to loud noises and sudden gestures, and – as he forcibly slowed his breathing, desperate to still his heart – Severus rammed the book into a satchel over his shoulder, before he turned to face his husband. The two men looked at one another, staring each other down and waiting for the other to make the first move, but Harry stood his ground and was soon rewarded by a low growl of frustration from Severus. Severus waved a hand.

“Lily, we are going inside now,” said Severus.

There was a sudden rush of footsteps. The little girl came into sight, although Harry couldn’t hazard a guess as to where she’d been hiding, and – tripping over the stylish red dress – she spilled two broomsticks onto the pavement before her small body. Severus rolled his eyes with a sigh; he reached down to scoop the child-sized broomsticks under his arm, before he propped his daughter up onto two feet with an uncharacteristic smile.

The little girl sniffed and choked back sobs, as she rubbed at her eyes with little fists, and her curly black hair fell about her face to hide black eyes. Harry fought his instinct to run to her, when he saw Severus lift her skirt just enough to reveal scratched and bloody knees, and – as he kissed them with a light touch of his lips – he subtly waved his hand to provide some wandless magic. The wounds were gone. Lily sniffed again, before she smiled at him and offered him a small hand. Severus took it and gently guided her to the front door.

“Why’d you bring a broomstick?” Albus asked.

“I want to fly with someone other than Daddy,” chirped Lily. “Veronica and Jason always want to play with broomsticks and Veronica is nearly as good as Aunt Ginny! If Uncle Dudley lets us, I want to learn how to play football, too. It’s so much fun! Anyway, you’re just jealous because I’m better than you, even though you had lessons.”

“Whatever.” Albus shrugged with a pout. “You better get used to having a piece of wood between your legs, because I’m pretty sure it’s written all over your future, but – hey – you go enjoy flying around on a broom. Aren’t you special? Well done.”

“Albus Potter-Snape,” spat Severus. “A word. _Now_.”

“Can you chastise him later?” Harry asked.

He reached out with his hand to touch the knocker. Lily ran beside him, oblivious to her brother’s sarcasm and euphemisms, and jumped up to knock the door for herself, but – as she jumped – Severus reached out for Albus’ earlobe. He twisted with enough force that Harry winced, as his son was dragged down the cobblestone path to the front gate. Severus refrained from shouting at their son. He didn’t need to shout. The young teenager paled and looked at him with wide eyes, before nodding and walking back with slouched shoulders.

Harry reached down to pick the eight-year old up, just long enough that she could slam the knocker the customary three times, before he dropped her back down and she ran to Severus with a big grin, while she chirped aimlessly about her day at school. He looked to see Albus with hands shoved into his pockets, muggle clothing making him stand out among their small group, and inside the house there were the sounds of someone racing the tidy up.

“Can I go to Scorpius’ now?” Albus asked.

Severus glared down to Albus, who pouted and looked away. It brought about another stab of pain to Harry’s brow, as he raised his hand to rub at his forehead, and he made a mental note to have a very serious – and likely embarrassing – conversation with Draco about their sons’ all too close friendship. There was a shadow behind the front door; Severus whispered a veiled last minute threat to their son, before squeezing their daughter’s hand.

The door opened to reveal Dudley. Harry smiled to see his cousin; he lost weight over the years, while somehow avoiding looking too much like Vernon, and yet the tension in the air still hung heavy between them. Dudley bit his lip and shrugged with a smile, as he made an attempt to break the awkwardness between them. He reached out a hand and shook with Harry, before attempting to shake hands with Severus, and – as the older man raised an eyebrow and glared at him – he pulled back with a blush. Dudley then looked to Albus.

“Everything okay?” Dudley asked.

Albus snorted and walked past Dudley. It took all of Harry’s self-control not to shout at him, but – before he could even open his mouth – Lily screamed out in excitement at sight of her cousins, as she let go of Severus’ hand and ran through the house straight towards them. Severus muttered an excuse and followed behind, even as Dudley’s wife appeared to say not to worry and that she was happy to watch them. Harry heard something break inside. He winced and looked to Dudley, who understood perfectly the frustrations of fatherhood.

“Firewhiskey,” begged Harry. “Lots of it.”

Dudley laughed in sympathy.

 

 


End file.
